Metropolis Sigma
by ALittleDabllDoYa
Summary: Avians and Humans have been at war ever since the turn of the century, a war which the Avians are losing badly. There are the bigots. There are the sympathizers. And then there's Yuuri, who's just trying to keep his head down and help others survive. The arrival of an Alpha complicates things. Based on tumblr prompt by Kazliin, Avian AU
1. Chapter One

**_By RegalOneByTheStream_**

 **Prompt searching! Yay!**

 **I don't own the base idea, but a lot of it is actually my own set of brain babies. I don't own Yuri! On Ice, however, which is a shame.**

 **Anyways. Rated T because Yurio is a brat per norm and has absolutely NO FILTER.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **XXXXXX**

 ** _-Day 324-_**

 ** _-21:37 Monday 12/17, year X427 of Nea Epochi-_**

 ** _-Yuuri Katsuki-_**

 ** _-I have been working in the Metropolis Sigma Avian Detention and Research Facility for almost a year now—halfway through eleven months.-_**

 ** _-My rankings in the status quo of MSADRF have improved significantly. I am the only doctor that the Avians seem to enjoy, and so they send me to patch up what's left of their experiments.-_**

 ** _-Test subject Kappa-633713, surname Chulanont, says it's because I have the rare quality of sympathy. I hope there's more to it than that. I hope that I have built friendships with them. I hope that I'm not the only one in this facility who has even an inkling of what human behavior is supposed to be like anymor-_**

 _Backspace backspace backspace_.

 ** _-quality of sympathy. Kappa-633713 is sorely mistaken. I feel nothing but contempt for these hideous abominations. They deserve this pain for killing so many of our own-_**

No, that was laying it on a bit too thick. Yuuri bit his lip as he entered his daily work log into his computer. The diary was supposedly private. He'd trusted that until the end of the first month, when he'd vocalized his horror at the happenings down in the dreaded block 2F and had immediately been called into the offices of both the president and the vice president. In the first month.

He saw Celestino, vice president of the corporation, first. He assured him hurriedly that they were on the same side, and then gave him strict instructions to keep a bigoted mindset, dodge or counter anything accusatory, and to lie lie lie. And then he was carted into the office of the president himself, who had questioned him thoroughly, accusing him of sympathetic behavior towards the devil creatures, had warned him of the repercussions of helping an Avian escape, had told him that he was bright, by far one of the best medical doctors there, and had told him it would be a pity to see him behind bars.

The policemen outside the office who had glared him down as he walked past made much more sense, then.

Yuuri kept his bigoted mindset. He scoffed and told the president that the dumb beasts (lie) deserved to be punished like this (lie). He dodged the accusation of sympathy through the same manner, telling the president that they deserved no sympathy (lie). They were just Avians, just these stupid, inferior creatures (lie) who he most definitely did not give an inkling about (lie) and he most certainly had no intention of allowing any of them to escape (lie). He thanked the president for his kind words, careful to seem prejudiced, to be proud of his medical abilities, to be proud that he was being taught how to hurt Avians. Yuuri told himself that he was _The Shit_ , the coolest and the best, and let his mouth and his aura do the rest.

Unlike his hands and fingers, which had been torn apart by Minako, his first surgical instructor, and reformed into untrembling tools of medicine, and his mind, which was so weak and scared when he was intimidated, those two parts of his excelled at what they did naturally.

And he seemed to have convinced the president that he enjoyed this awful, gruesome job, because he was still working there today.

( _Lies_. It was all a _lie_. He had never wanted to hurt _anyone_.)

 ** _-abominations.-_**

(That was a lie, too. He, as a doctor who had been taught to sew and patch people together, very much wanted to hurt the doctors who ripped and tore people—Avians—apart.)

Yuuri had no more steam for any more of an intro. Clearing his throat and glancing around his quarters, he started up on his lab reports. Yuuri had been given a neat little apartment in the facility, just in case a scientist working overtime made an oopsy and accidentally did something stupid like cut a bit too deep into the Avian's leg, puncturing the artery. Then Yuuri would have to haul ass into the labs to medicate and stitch and admonish the unapologetic scientist and try to save this Avian's life while wondering why, why shouldn't he just let this Avian bleed out and save him from more torture?

 ** _-currently, recovering charges in medbay that are unavailable for further probing_** Yuuri hated that word, _probing_ , but it was the correct term considering the work that went on in MSADRF **_-include Kappa-633713, Delta-009863, and Beta-013637. The remainder of their stay should not take more than two weeks with rest and proper medication.-_**

-Delta-009863, surname Plisetsky, is to reach his medical deadline at 1300 on Tuesday, 12/18. A request for an extended period of recuperation will be inquired for, as 009863 is clearly mentally- backspace -physically incapable of retaining much more before his body is compromised and made incapable of further research. Given his age, at sixteen years, his hormonal imbalances suggest that further recuperation could take anywhere from a week to a month of careful study and testing.-

Yuuri leaned back, sighing. Plisetsky was just a child when he molted—twelve years old. Just an innocent little _boy_. According to records, he had been on the run for three years, and had been in captivity for five months, coming into the facility at about half of Yuuri's current time there. He was a brash teenager, rude and immature, fiercely fighting his restraints despite the punishments they wrought upon him for doing so and spewing out obscene remarks and harsh expletives that made Yuuri blush and infuriated the scientists greatly. They had removed all of his unnecessary internal organs without anesthetic or any numbing agent, and had made it quite clear that Plisetsky would be Yuuri's number one patient if he kept this attitude.

Which was why Yuuri intended to hold him in the infirmaries for an extra month. The rest of the facility was marked territory, harsh and unforgiving, but the medical wing was Yuuri's domain, and he had made it as comforting as possible, painting the walls a light, calming blue and ordering the softest beds and best instruments and medicines. Little ornaments decorated his office, which connected both to his quarters and to his medical wing, and there were several framed pictures on the walls of the infirmary: a copy of his medical certificate, a painting by an Avian artist he knew back in Hasetsu who had died in this very institute, a stained glass frame of an Alpha Avian in flight.

Alphas were the best and most beautiful Avians, the greatest soldiers, with the longest wingspan and unending stamina. From that letter on it travelled down the greek alphabet until Omega, the weakest and scrawniest of the bunch, who never seemed to survive long enough to make it into Yuuri's medical wing. But those Alphas were something else, and every scientist in every block vied for one of their own.

Yuuri hoped to any and all the gods, old and new, known and unknown, that the facility never got its greedy hands on an Alpha.

They would tear it to _shreds_.

Shivering, Yuuri changed subjects. _**-Beta-013637 is also to be released tomorrow. There are no contrapositions to this claim.-**_

The beta, surname Giacometti, was strong. He had assured Yuuri that he would be fine. He had also been a fan of fondling Yuuri's behind under his lab coat and laughing as the doctor squeaked and scurried away. But all the same, Yuuri did not want to send him back—did not want to send any of his patients back.

But the board members minus Celestino, his boss and friend, were already suspicious of his political standings. He was playing a dangerous game, now, with very few allies and very little leeway.

And so back Giacometti went, and the next day Yuuri braved the cage of hangry lions and met with Plisetsky.

The teen glared at him as he entered, and Yuuri stifled the urge to stammer apologies and throw himself out the door. Sitting down on the end of the bed, thoroughly out of reach, he smiled tentatively at the boy as he attempted to stare Yuuri down. "Hi," Yuuri ventured.

"Your beds don't have restraints on them," Plisetsky immediately countered, "I could throttle you, throw myself out that window, and fly away."

Yuuri smiled at him sadly. "The...the first action any personnel is supposed to make is to clip the wings of the captive. You'd...fall to your death."

Plisetsky scowled and turned away. "As if _that_ would deter me," he muttered.

"Plisetsky," Yuuri tried again, "I'm not going to send you back to them today."

The boy's head snapped back to Yuuri's, wide eyes reading the truth behind the sentence written on the face of the deliverer, and faint relief filled his eyes even as his mouth twisted in an ugly snarl. "Tomorrow, then?" he growled, his eyes flicking to the wall and resting on the painting of a male blade-dancer on the ice, eyes filled with triumph and delight and a gold medal resting on his sternum. "Why fucking put it off then, piggy?"

"Not tomorrow, either," Yuuri told him, "or the day after that. With luck, I bought you at least a month."

The teen's head whipped back around, his gaze meeting Yuuri's with barely concealed hope written on his face. "Really?" he said, eyes narrowed, barely daring to hope. Yuuri nodded, and then drew closer to the boy and whispered, minding the bugs he knew were behind the painting of the hummingbird just outside, in the hallway, "I know a relatively harmful herb that, when mixed with a few other ingredients, causes the symptoms of severe illness for several hours. If you'd like I could give them to you at the end of the month and buy you at least a week more."

The boy looked ready to pounce on the offer, but halted in his tracks. "What's in it for you?" he asked, eyes back to glaring, mouth already pinched into his angry scowl. Yuuri smiled shakily. "I don't like seeing people in pain—it gives me more anxiety than I already have—and anyways, it isn't like you all aren't basically human, with a slightly altered genetic function pertaining more closely to fowled creatures...a study 2F conducted once..."

At the mention of the feared block, Plisetsky shivered, glaring at Yuuri when he noticed that the doctor had caught the reflexive motion. Yuuri flinched as he realized that he had to tread lightly; after all, the poor kid had just come from 2F. The missing kidney, spleen, and pinky finger on his left hand were proof enough of that.

Plisetsky looked rather relaxed at that answer, but his scowl was intact. "...Okay," he said after a while. "Fine." Yuuri's anxiety was sated by this reply, and it backed down. He could feel his shoulders relaxing.

"We're going to be doing mental stuff while we wait," Yuuri said into the growing silence, "It's something I do with most of my patients...which is usually every Avian in the facility, but all the same, it's good information to...to know."

"What the fuck, mental stuff? You know I went to school, right, piggy?"

"I'm going to be teaching you how to make the scientists as happy as possible."

Plisetsky shot him a look. "Really?" he ground from between his teeth. Yuuri nodded. "I learned from one of my first patients...Takeshi was his name. I knew him from my home sect, Hasetsu."

Plisetsky nodded. "The one with the castle at the end of the street."

Yuuri smiled. "Yeah. He was my best friend's husband, with kids and everything, and they took him as soon as he molted. I was fresh out of medical school and came to...make sure he stayed alive." Yuuri paused, wondering if Plisetsky was bored, but the teen seemed interested, even saying, "Get on with the fucking story, piggy."

"Er, yeah. He...passed from one of the experiments in the fourth area blocks." Yuuri shuddered. "I...don't want to talk about it. But before that, he told me that he'd learned the timings for screaming and when to talk and when not to, what to say and when to say it, and he told me everything he learned about that and other things…" trailing off, Yuuri looked down at his folded hands, resting so innocently in his lap even though they had been drenched with the blood of dying Avians so many times he'd lost count, and clenched, hard, hoping to carve crescents into his knuckles, hoping to atone for what had been done to these poor beings…

"Teach me," Plisetsky commanded. Yuuri looked up. "Not today, you look like a fucking train wreck. Work on that, and maybe lose the glasses, they make you look like a fucking dork. But teach me."

Yuuri smiled shakily.

He hadn't told Yuri the other thing Takeshi had learned, and he didn't intend to. Because that was the reason Takeshi had been killed, the reason Yuuri had been summoned to a meeting with the president despite never having been to one before and not even saying anything in it but being unable to leave.

He'd found a way out. He'd found another Sympathizer. And he needed Yuuri's help to get there.

Yuuri's name was never found, but the other persons' was, and so was Takeshi's. The sympathizer was publicly shamed and executed for his crimes. Takeshi was sent to 4, where the lack of medical control was publicly known, both with Avians and scientists.

Just like that, Takeshi was gone, and Yuuri was knee-deep in this organization, unable to escape.

He wouldn't tell Plisetsky anything about that escape until he was certain that there was another Sympathizer, someone who cared and understood—

"Piggy? Are you fucking serious? Listen when people talk to you, dammit!"

"Ah, sorry," Yuuri squeaked, "what did you ask?"

Plisetsky made a face. "I told you to call me Yuri," he mumbled.

Yuuri laughed nervously. "But...that's my name." 'Yuri' scowled. "No, it's mine!" he retorted, "don't steal my name!"

"I was born first."

" _I'm_ more awesome!"

Holding up his hands in surrender, Yuuri conceded, "I have to call you by your code when there are other people around, but...just between us...I'll be Katsuki and you're Yuri. Does that sound fair?"

Yuri broke into a grin, opening his mouth probably to make some sort of witty comment, but at that moment the intercom on the wall crackled to life and howled, "Doctor Katsuki, we need you down at Grand Bay, ASAP, with strong tranquilizers! I repeat, _Grand Bay, ASAP, tranquilizers_!"

Without another word, with Yuri shouting questions after him, Yuuri sprinted out of Yuri's private quarters and into the main infirmary, snatching his lab coat off of a chair and rifling in the cabinets frantically before settling on a metal box, his tranquilizer case for when situations like these arose, usually when a Delta or above was brought into the bay and was too strong for human handlers to control. That was when Yuuri was brought in, with his sweet face and quick anesthesia, to calm the Avian and then stick it in the neck. It was one of his least favorite jobs, mostly because last time had been Giacometti, and he had broken two of Yuuri's ribs.

Toting the box, Yuuri sprinted out, taking a moment to lock the doors, and his patient, in. He'd had one too many occurrences when the psychotic scientists decided that they would intrude on the medical wing and finish what they had started—because nearly all of the injuries in his infirmary were from screwups, and some scientists just couldn't comprehend failure. Then he sprinted down to Grand Bay.

His bay was one of the smaller ones, meaning it was closer to the front, where Grand Bay was. And Grand bay certainly was grand: the size of two school gymnasiums, cages from floor to ceiling, where the weaker, hissier Avians were locked away. It was also where the groomers worked once a month, stripping the Avians of their primitive garb and renewing it, since the budget for MSADRF was high considering all the breakthroughs in Avian science they had come across: a blue shirt that was completely open in the back, tied only with a string at the nape of the neck, and scrub pants the same blue as the shirt. It was the groomers who cleaned off the bloodstains and grime, dried sweat and vomit, and who clipped the Avians' wings, once a month, exactly at 1700 on the tenth day.

He passed by several people on his way there, running through the hallways which had looked all the same his first month there. He'd learned the layout, of course, but not without complication. The silver-white walls and pale tile flooring was everywhere, had even been in his medical bay before he'd had it repainted, and it was awfully easy to turn the wrong way and lose yourself. The conversation between the people he passed followed him, and their words spurred him on, because in the fray of his feet slapping on the ground and his breathy pants as he forced his body to sprint and the blood pounding in his head, he could hear one word:

 _Alpha_. Over and over, Alpha Alpha _Alpha_ , and then pairing with words until a phrase was born: there's an alpha in Grand...

 _Please, please, no,_ he begged the gods, _please don't let them have an Alpha, please, please_ …

He burst into the bay, the slamming of the door startling everyone in the room. Upon seeing that it was him, almost everyone in the room almost wilted with relief. Even the Avian, who struggled in the center of the atrium, seemed relieved to see that it was not what he considered backup, or in other words, several large, muscled men.

 _Ha. The chubby, scrawny, four-eyed doctor_

was _the backup._

The workers roared and fought with new fervor, crushing the Avian to its knees as Yuuri started tentatively forward, and the Avian screeched, a noise that humans couldn't make, and he vaguely remembered a few months ago when they had studied that and Yuuri had had an increase in patients who had come dangerously close to having their jugular sliced open or had been permanently silenced, the scientists having accidentally cut through their vocal cords and then running to Yuuri to save the creature before it died by choking on its own blood.

Smiling softly, Yuuri knelt beside him and said, "It's alright. I'm not going to hurt you."

The Avians in the cages halted in their hissing, recognizing his voice. The Alpha glanced up at them, but then turned back to stare at Yuuri. "I don't trust you," he growled, and Yuuri's smile dropped. He leaned in closer to the Avian, out of biting distance but close enough that their words were theirs alone.

"I like your wings," he murmured, "and I'm sorry that this happened to you."

"I don't need your pity," the Avian snapped, and Yuuri grimaced. "All the same, I apologize. For everything. If you hear them talking about sending you to the medical bay, to Doctor Yuuri Katsuki, try everything you can to get there. I'll— _he'll_ do something to help."

"What are you talking about?" the Avian breathed. Yuuri ran a hand through his hair, tugging it away from his face and looked back at the Avian. He was a pretty creature, it was certain. Silver hair, long, long silver hair, which the groomers would no doubt cut off and give to the DNA Recorders, the branch that collected data on all known Avians, living and deceased. Royal blue eyes swimming with emotion, fear and intrigue and something else blooming in his gaze as their eyes met, and Yuuri felt a blush touch his cheeks as his eyes traveled across defined cheekbones and pale cheeks to a strong jawline and a heart shaped mouth, which scowled not unlike that of Pli— _Yuri_. It was the usual expression of an Avian in captivity. But these two were really good at it.

And those wings. He must have a wingspan of at least ten to twelve feet, the feathers a shimmering, glossy white. Beautiful, strong, regal.

 _Alpha_.

Yuuri leaned in, hearing the Alpha's breath hitch as Yuuri murmured, "Survival."

Before the Avian could react, Yuuri pushed the syringe into the side of his throat and pressed the plunger.

Grabbing the Avian's shoulders, ignoring the new emotion, betrayal, that filled the Avian's blue eyes, Yuuri pulled their chests together and whispered, "Doctor Yuuri Katsuki, remember Doctor Katsuki, Doctor Katsuki, Doctor _Yuuri Katsuki_ —"

The Avian Alpha slumped, and Yuuri fixed his bigoted, dodgy, liar mask on as he turned to the other men. "Congratulations, gentlemen," he said to them drily, "you've caught yourselves a goddamn _Beta_."

They would eat an Alpha alive.

 _But not if they thought he was a Beta_.

The men whooped, patting each other and Yuuri on the back, and Yuuri took part only for as long as necessary. When his presence was no longer as required, Yuuri slunk away, up to his wing, unlocking and relocking the infirmary behind him, checking in briefly on Yuri—sleeping soundly; good, it was late—and falling into his quarters, prying his scrubs off and pulling on sweatpants, ignoring a shirt and setting an alarm for 0600 the next morning.

He dreamed about Takeshi's molt.

 **XXXXXX**

Even though Yuuri knew from questionings that Molts hurt, Takeshi didn't even scream as the sickening cracks filled the silence, as Yuuko's chest heaved and she wept, shoving her girls out and breathlessly saying, "Monster," and Takeshi refused to scream, even as he looked up at Yuuri and saw that his eyes were revolted, he refused to scream, but now the world was blurry, for his eyes were tearing up and spilling over, and ' _I'm still your best friend!'_ he wanted to yell, ' _I'm still Nishigori Takeshi_!' but how could he when all he could see were stars and his jaw would not unclench, for there was a fire in his vocal cords and an uncomfortable sensation on his back, and he blinked away the tears and looked up at Yuuri and mouthed, " _Please_."

His best friend blinked, and to Takeshi's relief, the revolt faded into something else: horror. "Takeshi? Are you still...Takeshi?"

Of course, who else would he be, but he nodded, whimpering, and Yuuri miraculously unfroze from his pre-hyperventilative state and reached for something behind him. Takeshi gasped for breath. Scissors. Was Yuuri going to hurt him? He knew how his best friend felt about Avians—they had had so many talks about going into the war together when they were small, going to kill all of the Avians and take back their land. But now he was one of those Avians, and—

Yuuri whispered, "I'm going to cut off your shirt; your wings are trapped beneath it. Then I'm going to go get Yuuko."

And Yuuri did exactly as he said, careful to be gentle and not to poke Takeshi with the point, not even jokingly, which was nice because his back was tender, unbelievably tender, and he had no clue how any Avians could _possibly_ know how to retract their wings because they were so damn _uncomfortable_.

"Your molt is really late," Yuuri said softly, "You're almost thirty."

"Twenty-seven is _not_ almost thirty!" Takeshi croaked. His vocal cords felt weird, heavier, somehow, but they weren't necessarily painful or irritating, just _different_. Yuuri giggled nervously, and Takeshi groaned. "Go get Yuuko. I'll try to explain. My parents weren't Avian, so I don't know how…"

Yuuri nodded and ran from the room. A few minutes passed, and then—

"YUUKO, NO!"

It was too late.

 **XXXXXX**

Viktor's mind began to spin the second he awoke, the words _Doctor Yuuri Katsuki_ ringing in his ears as the sweet, cute, betraying man's chocolate eyes bored into his, filled with an urgency, a kind seriousness. He could feel how it pained the man to plunge that syringe into his neck, saw the pain on his face as he shouted to the other men about his being a Beta and such. It was a painful symphony thrumming in his ears, and as his eyes slid sedatedly around the room, taking in information without processing any of it, he decided that he forgave the man anyways.

Viktor was an Alpha. But if the man had thought that there was a need to conceal that, then so be it, he was a Beta.

 _Doctor Yuuri Katsuki_.

Viktor moved to sit up, but didn't even move a millimeter before he was held down by thick straps, on his neck, his chest, his forearms, his biceps, his midsection and thighs and knees and calves and ankles. His fingers were strapped down too, just the second knuckles because his fingers could wrap around the armrest things so that was okay.

But he was getting bad vibes.

"Hello, Beta-834756," a cold, cackling voice said next to his ear, "Welcome to lab 2F."

Viktor had never screamed louder in his entire life.

 **XXXXXX**

 **Bwhahaha, fin.**

 **If anyone knows me, I suck at regular updates. You've been warned.**

 **I also gave Yuuri a bit more confidence. He's still a muffin, but you know. Tamped down. And although Plisetsky shenanigans is the BEST, none this time. Definitely when he and Viktor meet. Definitely.**

 **Anyways, thanks for reading!**

 **~RegalOneByTheStream**


	2. Chapter Two

**By RegalOneByTheStream**

 **Well then. I'm very proud of how that first chapter turned out.**

 **Thanks for follows faves, and reviews!**

 **Oh. This was actually pretty good with timing. Yay!**

 **Also, since I have this revolving around my brain, I'm open to prompt suggestions. Of course I am. I might not necessarily use them, but you know.**

 **Alright, fanfictioning time. Let's do this.**

 **Not sure if this chapter bumps it to M, but I cut a bunch of stuff that I thought were a bit too much for y'all nine year olds. Dunno why a nine year old would be reading my shit, but y'know. Sorry, kiddo. No weirdass stuff for you!**

 **Enjoy Chapter Two!**

 **XXXXXX**

 _Day 332_

 _0652, Tuesday 12/25, year X427 of Nea Epochi_

 _Yuuri Katsuki_

 _The clamors beginning with the excitingarrival of the new Avian beast, Beta-834756, have finally died down. I haven't heard the scientists so ecstatic since the arrival of Beta-013637. Although I have been told that his wingspan measures to 10.2603 feet and that his feathers are as white as the freshly fallen snow, I have no reason to believe that the rest of the dumb creature is as beautiful as the wing.-_

The blue eyes that had looked at him with so much anger and fear and that something else still haunted Yuuri a week later, and he prayed each day that that was finally the day where he could have the Avian up in his infirmary, explain to the poor Avian how he was going to do something drastic that would make him incapable of going back, and find some way to same him. _Somehow_.

Yuuri scowled at his computer screen. The Avian had been the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen. He was still lying.

- _I have received samples of the creature's blood from my acquaintance, DNA Recorder Seung Gil. It can be assumed by how often the creature's screams echo up from the second area blocks that they enjoy probing him_ \- Yuuri shivered, that word - _almost as much as they enjoy rooting around in_ Kappa-633163 _to find out why his hair is dark, contrasting severely with the Avian tendency to have lighter hair_.-

They'd wanted to know the same thing when they got their hands on Takeshi. Unfortunately, they'd killed him before they ever found out. Also, Yuuri would never tell them, but his hair had originally been blonde, but his parents had had it permanently dyed black.

- _According to a name card I received alongside the blood,_ Beta-834756 _has the surname_ _Nikiforov_ _and was undercover as a lawyer in the St. Petersburg sect.-_

Yuuri shook his head. It couldn't be that Nikiforov. That Nikiforov wasn't an Avian.

Not that Yuuri would know, since his radio had mysteriously disappeared when he'd first gotten suspected as a Sympathizer, and hadn't been returned yet _._

 _He also had a dog. As a person who has loved and lost a pet, I am currently in the process of adopting said dog, a poodle apparently named_ \- backspace backspace, they didn't want to know that, and anyways he only knew the dog's nickname, Mack - _said dog, a brown female poodle_.

 _There is no progress with the state of_ Delta-009863 _._ Kappa-633163 _is under rehabilitation and will resume experimentation in three days, on 12/28 at 1300._

 _You guys are all absolute assholes and piggy says you can all go fuck yourselves_ \- no no, backspace! "Yuri!" Yuuri whined, taking back control of his laptop as the young Avian smirked.

- _1300_.

 _I appreciate greatly the gifts of extra Fleur de Tromphe syrup and fresh anesthetics, as well as the many well wishing cards! This festive day is the best excuse to drop everything and celebrate!_

 _Merry Christmas to all._

 _~Dr. Yuuri Katsuki, M.D. -_

"Why do you end all of your entries like that?" Yuri Plisetsky asked, squinting at the name, "that M.D. thing. What does it even stand for? Major dickhead? Because i can see that for some of the douchebags that work here..."

Yuuri snorted. "It's proof of my medical license," he explained, "It means Medical Degree. I could put DS after it, because I studied that specifically, but I don't put them there because they're so long."

"Do I look like I know that, either? "What do those letters stand for?" Yuri turned his face away, appearing to be staring at the blade dancer again, but his eyes were still trained on Yuuri. "Doctor of Surgery. I had to master it, and this is my residency. I studied for four years, but I still have a year to go. I think I'll stay here anyways, though. They like me here. Also the other patch-up doctors aren't very good" Yuri's eyes went wide. "Damn. How fucking old _are_ you?"

Yuuri scratched his neck. "I turned twenty-two in November. I came fresh from the schools and was taught in them since I was seventeen, because you can get your high school diploma a year early if you're smart enough to know how to pull those strings, and it helps when all of your professors are biased because they know you intend to work in an anti-Avian facility." Yuri scoffed, and Yuuri shrugged. "My friend and I were determined to be the best of the best and stand at the top of the world both in the military and in sciences." Yuuri rubbed at the place he'd been scratching. "That plan kind of fell apart when he molted."

Yuri grimaced. Then he shifted in bed and asked, "You told me last night that we wouldn't be working on the acting thing today. That means you got a Christmas present for me instead, right, piggy? If it's fucking _cookies_ , I'll skin you alive."

"It's even better," Yuuri said, smiling, and bringing around a bowl to rest next to Yuri's legs. There was tin foil over the top to hold in the heat. Yuuri pulled back the covering to reveal three warm pork cutlets inside. Yuri's face was priceless: melting from scowly to shocked to lusty as he stared at the food, his eyes wider than plates. "My mom taught me how to cook these when I was younger," Yuuri told him and Yuri reached for a pork cutlet and sank his teeth into it. "It's a famous dish in Hasetsu called _katsudon_. I used to say that if I never found a partner I would just marry this katsudon and that would be the end of it. People usually laughed with me."

"Not _with_ you, stupid, _at_ you. That's fucking pitiful. Sounds _exactly_ like you, piggy," Yuri mumbled as he grabbed another, polishing off his first and licking his fingers. "That didn't have, like, laxatives or some shit in it?" he asked warily, trying to be suspicious as he arched an eyebrow at Yuuri, but his wide grin and the way he immediately shoved the next one into his mouth gave him away. "Nope, I promise," Yuuri replied, smiling, and Yuri grunted in response.

"I'll see you in a bit to take the bowl, I have to check on the rest of my patients," Yuuri told him, standing, and Yuri grunted through a mouthful of food. " _Good_ , go get some _exercise_ , pig!" he hollered after him, and Yuuri could hear him cackling as he shut the door. It was only about 0700, and so the first batch of major mistakes would be served to him piping hot and hopefully drastic enough that he would be able to take most of them to his safe infirmaries, or even better the morgue. But before he received his first emergency call, he would have to check up on the infirmary members. Handing out what presents he had been able to come up with-mostly food, considering that Avians were not allowed to carry personal items, but for a few, including Chulanont, he gave them things like pictures that he would then store for them or he would show them something cool from the outside world: a camera, a t-shirt, one of Yuuri's old blade-dancing shoes.

He and Chulanont had grown closer over the course of the week where Yuuri had held him, and they used that camera to take a picture together, grinning at the lens like they weren't a drastically mishandled Avian (put _mildly_ ) or a human half-sympathizer doctor who didn't have the guts to try to save anyone further than making excuses to push people away from his labs but keep Avians in. Like they were two normal adult men.

Yuuri hung and framed that photo in his office.

The next day, Chulanont was carted out of the infirmary to go to research block 3, the genetics area. He was lucky. The doctors there may have no idea what the words 'personal space' meant, but they did have a certain distaste for torture, which was a plus. They were mostly interested in Chulanont for his hair, again, since they hadn't had the time to study it's phenomenon in area three because they had been doing the same thing in a more "hands on" manner in area two. Yuuri even received a blindingly kind smile as Chulanont was shoved mercilessly into his too-small cage and carted away.

It kind of made him want to cry.

 **"** **Doctor Katsuki Yuuri, failing heart down in lab 2B, I repeat! Katsuki, heart, 5B!"**

And off he sprinted, grabbing a defibrillator from the wall as he passed it.

 **XXXXXX**

Viktor didn't know how long it had been, but it felt like centuries, millennia passing him by as he lay in agony on his uncomfortable table slab, his wings bent oddly under him, snapped in several places and no doubt dirty. Viktor felt his lips twitch into a frow, the slight movement jarring his brain and sending salty tears cascading down his temples. He was not a fan of dirt.

He also was not a fan of having his neck cut open so that his pharynx could be studied, but you know. _Dirt_.

Vaguely, he could hear the doctors squabbling. _Doctor Yuuri Katsuki_. Oh yes. They were saying his name. Where had Viktor heard that again? Hm. He didn't know much, the world was so dark and he was so woozy and there was nothing but agony and fear and pain and well the bonds were looser than he thought because he was free now and you know what, if he was going down he was taking one of those damn surgeons with him-

And then an _angel_ appeared before him.

And Viktor realized he didn't quite want to die yet.

 **XXXXXX**

They had come so very close to rupturing the Theta's stomach. So, _so_ very close. But a ruptured stomach was not a quick death.

And therefore Yuuri saved him, using anesthesia and numbing his mind and doing the fastest surgery he possibly could, ending up with a beautiful hour and a half of work trying to save the poor Theta, who didn't deserve any of this.

Yuuri sighed and leaned back from his work. The patient was stable. That was all he needed to hear before his little minions, a few young interns who looked at him like he told the sun to rise and set every day, picked the figure up, keeping his head, shoulders, and upper spine steady as they gently lifted, placing the limp creature on a gurney. They then strapped the creature down and sped off to Yuuri's infirmaries.

Wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, one of the surgeons, a nicer one named Mila, handed him a paper cup full of water. "You worked hard," she murmured, "relax a bit. It's fine."

 **"** **Doctor Yuuri Katsuki, lab 2F, beta, serum problems! I repeat, 2F, beta, serum-"**

Yuuri was running, despite Mila shouting after him to ignore it and take a break, despite forgetting to put the paper cup down and sloshing it across his midsection, snatching his case with one hand and bolting out the doors.

He was already in Area 2, but he was in lab B, and so the run took him several minutes to complete. By the time he reached the area, he could hear the shouting and the crashes. Skidding into the door, slamming it open, he was confronted with a screaming staff, half of them trying to edge away and half of them trying to get close enough to stick him, except he was using his huge white Alpha wings to bat them away, and Yuuri knew how much that hurt. Giacometti had broken his ribs that way.

There were multiple pins stuck through his wings, the blood from the wounds staining his wings, and his throat was completely flayed, the front of his body red and slick with blood, his thin blue shirt soaked in it, and as soon as his eyes alighted on Yuuri they widened. The Avian stumbled towards him, finally coming to stand inches away, his breathing heavy, his eyes feral and wild. And then the creature moaned, wrapping his wings around them and his hands, sweaty and covered in blood and god, his pinky and his left hand ring finger were gone, but it was the sweetest hug Yuuri had ever received.

But Yuuri was in biased dodgy asshole mode. And biased dodgy assholes stick needles into unsuspecting Avians that they knew were Alphas because that is just what they do. As the poor Avian moaned again and slid to the ground, Yuuri glared at the offending scientists. "Really?" he said mockingly, "It's just a dumb animal, half flayed and half bled out and who _knows_ what else, and you needed me to handle it? Ah, wait, yes, you _did_ , because it's going to die if you leave it like this for much longer. Give me a layout of what you did to it so I know whether or not it needs to be put down-ah, shit."

Bending over, Yuuri gently slid the Avian on his side, gingerly opening his jaw and finding a clean spot on his throat to place his fingers, softly kneading his throat as vomit trickled out of his mouth onto the tile floor. " _Glove_ ," he called, and one was slapped into his waiting palm. Yuuri slid the latex glove on and pushed his fingers into the Avian's mouth, pushing the tongue down and cleaning the mouth of excess. When he was finally satisfied that the Avian could breath, Yuuri looked back up, fixing Mr. Biased Dodgy Asshole back into place over Dr. Yuuri Katsuki, D.S.M.D., who had taken over for a second. " _Well_?" he spat, "Where's the list?"

The list was pressed shakily into his hand, and then his assistants were there with the gurney and he was rushing alongside them, eyes fixed on the note.

Yuuri didn't bother listening to any of his other calls, telling one of his minions, Leo de la Iglesia, to call him in as busy for the rest of the day. It was 1600. There was about nine hours of surgery ahead of him if he worked quickly.

He should have had them make a list of what they _hadn't_ done to the poor Avian. Being a beta was usually relatively safe, but this poor one was only a pseudo beta, and so he was considered a "rare large specimen".

They had apparently taken an up-close look at his insides to try and see if they were any larger as well.

Yuuri pumped the Avian's stomach of all the chemicals they had force fed him, then got to work, cutting and stitching and groaning and batting people away and calling in faceless assistants to push wherever needed to be pushed or to hold while he cut the beginnings of gangrene away, something he truly feared. Finally, Yuuri got the midsection under wraps, the heart finally stable, the lungs breathing normally, broken ribs set and biofoam holding the pieces steady. A piece of his liver was gone, as well as his gall bladder and one kidney.

But then he had to start on his throat. _Eurgh_.

Yuuri ended up grafting skin from the inside of the Avian's thigh onto his neck. There was nothing else he could do. The skin was just _gone_ , giving way to muscle and tendons and pumping veins, and _gross gross gross_.

Yuuri spent very little time after that on the Avian's face. He was not very good at dentistry, but from the looks of it they hadn't done anything there. 2F usually worked on the throat, anyways. But Yuuri paused to catch his breath, staring at the Avian's face, because god, how could anything be so pure, so beautiful? Brushing at the Avian's silver hair, he sighed. Somehow, they had permitted the Avian to keep a fringe, but the rest of his hair was short, about half an inch long. Despite not having been washed for several weeks and being matted with dirt and blood, it shone like white silver, a crown on the head of the Alpha.

Yuuri pushed the locks away from his eyes and pulled his eyelids down, peering into his eyes. No popped blood vessels, no erratic dilation, no concussion. Opening the other eye, he compared them. They were the same size, same direction. Good.

Yuuri found himself staring for a bit too long.

And so, red faced, he moved on to the arms.

The Alpha had wrenched one of his arms out of its sockets breaking free from his restraints, apparently, and so Yuuri called in several people to hold him steady as he took the arm and rotated it, a sickening pop resounding around the room as the limb popped back into place. The Avian moaned, and a few tears slid down his cheeks, but he did not move. "Leave," Yuuri softly commanded the helpers, and they did, whispering little helpful comments as they passed, "Looks good, boss! Keep going!" "Holy Christ, you're doing awesome, Doctor Katsuki!" "You can do it, just a few more hours!"

Bending over, Yuuri nodded, smiled, and took out a knife which had a white hot blade. The helpers cleared out quickly. Turning back to the arm, Yuuri murmured apologies and sliced through the stumps of the pinkie and the ring finger, cutting them both to the second knuckle and letting the green-tinged excess pieces fall to the floor. The heat cauterized part of the wound, but Yuuri still carefully wrapped each stump, fighting the urge to press a kiss to the wounds just like his mother always had whenever he had a little papercut and ran into her arms, sobbing.

He fought back a snicker. These wounds were one hell of a paper cut.

He moved on to the legs.

And he winced and groaned.

They'd said something in the report about his ankles, but Yuuri hadn't believed it. But here it was, pure evidence that some idiot had thought it a good idea to cut the Avian's Achilles tendon to see if the acclaimed beta also had bigger regenerative abilities. Which was utter _bullshit_ , because everyone knew that the systems of the Avians were almost identical to that of a human's. That was like cutting open a six foot tall man to see if he bled differently compared to a five foot tall person. Idiocy!

Open surgery was easier in his opinion, so Yuuri made an incision and stitched the tendon back together, sewing the incision shut afterwards and wrapping the area. He then called for a boot to point the Avian's toe and moved onto the other leg, which was surprisingly pretty much untouched. As he applied healing paste over bruises and one of the assistants cleaned used utensils while another put the boot on with an expert hand, Yuuri looked over his work. There was really only one place left.

Assuring himself that Dr. Yuuri Katsuki, D.S.M.D. was firmly in the driver's seat, Yuuri flipped aside the thin covering that provided the Avian with a base amount of privacy.

He wouldn't lie. The Avian was actually pretty big. Bigger than some of the others, at least.

The scientists had apparently thought so too, because Yuuri had to stitch up an awful lot of stuff he'd never, ever, ever wanted to have to even _look_ at on another man. The assistants were giving him sympathetic looks, which was almost worse than the actual process of the surgery.

Finally it was over, and Yuuri washed his hands _very_ thoroughly before starting on the wings.

The operating tables in Yuuri's infirmary were awesome. End of story. They were specially made for optimal comfort for both the surgeon and the patient during Avian surgery, meaning that the table lifted up almost six feet off the ground and had an adjustable door on the underside where the wings could pop out. Yuuri had used it on Plisetsky. Now, he would use it on this Alpha. Nikiforov.

Nikiforov. Yuuri wondered what his first name was.

 _Shut up, brain._

As the Avian's wings unfurled, Yuuri pulled them out and loosely clipped the ends out. He then removed the pins, the metal rods, the plates, everything, cleaned them, and then reinserted the rods in different locations depending on the bone for extra strength. Stitch after stitch, and then they were reinforced and good as new, and two hours had come and gone.

When he finally pried himself out from under the table, the wings retracting back into the Avian's back, Yuuri was beat.

But the patient was stable.

He checked his watch. It read 0053. The assistants had left long ago.

Sighing, Yuuri stumbled into what he hoped was his office, collapsed into a chair, and fell asleep as soon as his body hit the seat.

 **XXXXXX**

"Holy fuck! _Katsudon_! Wake up, oh, _shit_ , they're gonna think I fucking _murdered_ you or something! Katsudon! Fuck- _Katsudon_!"

Yuri? He groaned, and the teen took that as encouragement to smack him across the face.

" _Gah_!"

"WAKE! UP!"

" _Yuri_!" he said, eyes wide and staring at the boy. "...you _hit_ me!" he cried.

The boy scoffed. "Get over it, Katsudon! Your dumbshit minions are freaking the fuck out because they can't find you and it's getting on my goddamn nerves!"

"You're _walking_ , Yuri."

The teen looked down at himself. "Yeah, I suppose I am," he mumbled, and Yuuri raised himself off his chair, wincing as his back gave a few unholy pops. "That's great! You were supposed to be walking a few days ago so I was worried when you didn't!"

"Huh?"

Yuuri blinked at him. "What?"

"I could have been walking _three days ago_ and you never told me?"

"Actually two, but-"

" _Goddamn it_ , katsudon! Piggy! Fatso asshole _jerk_! _Dr. Katsuki's in here_!"

Yuri launched himself onto his bed with a sniff of disdain as Yuuri was led by his assistants out of the room. Once their obnoxious stories and talking had disappeared into one of the rooms down the hall, he gingerly stood up and took a few steps. He'd thought that he wasn't supposed to be walking. That was what Yuuri told him nine days ago.

He vaguely remembered the word "week" in that memory somewhere, but _whatever_.

Yuri grinned maliciously. His room was right next to the doctor's office.

Payback was going to be such a _bitch_.

 **XXXXXX**

Viktor woke up very, very woozy. "Is Dr. Yuuri Katsuki here?" he asked someone, anyone, and his throat felt weird saying it. He tried again. "My throat feels funky," he tried, and then he mentally berated himself. _Who says_ funky _anymore_? God, what if his angel heard him...speaking of God and angels…

"Am I dead?" he asked the air, "'Cause if I am that would _really_ suck."

"You're not dead, but you got pretty close," a voice next to him answered. He brightened, expecting to see the angel, but the person who edged his way into Viktor's peripheral was not the angel, it was a kid with similar features but blonde, with a bright red streak in the front of his bangs. The kid was pouting. "I don't see why Doctor Katsuki presided so much over you," he sniffed, "But he says that life is precious so you can't die yet. Don't even think about it."

And then for some reason Viktor was blabbing on about how he thought he'd died because he totally saw an angel, and woah! There it was!

The kid snorted out a laugh. "That's funny!" and then he continued in some strange language at the angel, who looked at the kid kindly and said softly, "That's _enough_ , Minami," upon which the kid shut up, shot Viktor a glare, and stalked out.

" _Angel moy_ , I don't think I'm ready to die yet, but if it's you, I'm ready!" Viktor proclaimed, raising one of his arms to the ceiling; the other was in a cast. Upon which he gasped and stared. " _Angel moy_! I don't have restraints on!" The angel softly placed his hands on Viktor's, trying to pull the arm back to his side, but it was too late. Viktor stared at his left ring finger in horror, then looked back at the angel. " _Angel moy_!" he blubbered, "I can't get married!"

The angel giggled and murmured, "You have _no idea_ how hopped up on drugs you are right now…"

Viktor shoved his hand in the angel's face. "Kiss it and it'll come back!" he commanded, prodding the angel's nose with what was left of his fingers, "Do it! Angel kiss, angel kiss, an-ang-angle-ang-EL-ah, _bez ratsnitsy, potseluy angela, potseluy angela, potseluy angela_ -!"

The angel sighed, then planted his soft lips on Viktor's fingers, one after the other.

Viktor pulled his hand _reeeeeally_ close to his eyes, waving them back and forth before them, and then looked back at the angel. "Do it again," he whined, "your magic didn't work!"

The angel smiled down at him patiently, and Viktor felt stupid. "It didn't work because I have no magic. And that's because I'm not an angel," the not-angel said softly, "I'm a human doctor. My name is Yuuri Katsuki, and I'm going to put you to sleep again now so that you can get your strength back."

 _Oh_. Okay, then.

"Please don't send me back, Doctor," Viktor felt himself mumble, "My body hurts all over and my ankle feels weird and my shoulder hurts too but my throat is worse and I just want to go _home_ -"

"I know," Doctor Yuuri Katsuki said softly, "I'm sorry."

A needle pricked into his shoulder, but Viktor was too busy staring at the not-angel, feeling the soft tug as the man dragged his fingers through Viktor's new fringe, and listening as the man murmured a soft poem, a little lullaby.

He fell asleep murmuring, " _Pozhaluysta ne otpuskay menya, zvyozdochka_."

Please don't let me go.

 **XXXXXX**

 **Fin**.

 **Got a little bit of Viktuuri in there. Just a hint. Also, slowburn relationship, 'cause Yuuri's not gay. Not yet. Mwahahahahaaaa!**

 **And when Viktor is chanting for "angel kisses", he kind of sputters out on the pronunciation cause he's acting like he just got his wisdom teeth out, and then he says whatever, which is** ** _bez ratsnitsy_** **, and they starts saying angel kisses in Russian, which is** ** _potseluy angela_** **.**

 **And I don't know if anyone else sees it, but I** ** _kinda_** **unintentionally did a role reversal of the banquet, minus the stripping and pole dancing and...stuff. Well, unless you count the surgery part, which I do NOT.**

 **Follow, Fave, Review, you name it, I love it.**

 **Thanks for reading!**

 _ **~RegalOneByTheStream**_


	3. Chapter Three

**By RegalOneByTheStream**

 **Thanks for positive reviews! Also, the Otayuri seeds will be planted, no worries, but the ship is not going to be as centralized as Viktuuri.**

 **So without further ado.**

 **Chapter three.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **XXXXXX**

I am a human being; capable of doing terrible things.

~Run, AWOLNATION

 **XXXXXX**

The Apocalypse had not been pretty. _No_ _shit_ ; it was the freaking _apocalypse_.

It hadn't been a meteor like what had happened to the dinosaurs, or global warming like what liberal scientists told people. The cause wasn't some sort of alien invasion or zombies or a special government-made virus that was an instakill bioweapon. No, it had all been on people.

People had destroyed themselves.

And _no_ , it wasn't _nuclear warfare_ that did it.

Humans have always been afraid of things that were different. Massacring Jews, smothering out Christians, pushing homosexuals and the disabled to their deaths, dishonoring and disrupting the peaceful natives in a new land, humans did anything and everything to make sure that the normalcy of the world was absolute. But the world was changing, and these stubborn humans would change with it, forcefully or otherwise. And so God played a cruel joke. Somewhere in the line of evolution, somewhere in the biology of the family or the transferral of the genes from the father to the mother, there was a mutation, and the first winged child was born.

And the internet _exploded_.

On the web, there were pictures of the baby as a fetus and the baby just after birth and the baby at two months, which was adorable, seeing the child cuddled up next to its mother, grinning a toothless smile at the cameraperson as its wings fanned out behind it, a little angel, beautiful as could be.

Unknowing that in just a few short weeks, it would be dead.

The baby's name was Elizabeth. Elizabeth Montgomery. A little Caucasian girl in a little hamlet in little old West Virginia. She was 104 days old when she, her mother, and her father were taken into government custody and were never seen again.

Needless to say, the pictures were taken down.

And the internet exploded _again_.

But there were always exceptions to rules, and if there was any country more accustomed to breaking the rules, it was the United States of fucking America.

Surprise _surprise_. They were also the country with the loosest hold on their gun supply.

It took about fifty years for the Apocalypse to really kick into gear: time to get enraged, time to band together, time to plot, time to lay in wait like a venomous snake, readying itself to strike when the time was right.

The first revolt killed five million humans and twenty-four Avians.

The Avians had struck precisely. They had set up homemade bombs and blown up buildings, subways, foregoing suburbs in favor of taking out taller, more prominent structures. Several of them, all at once, all over the country. Fifty years of plotting had come to the beginning of the climax. Elizabeth would have been fifty years and 104 days old.

Once the Avians had used their weapons in a flashy, horrific display, they began on smaller scale attacks, killing anyone they could get their hands on. Avenging the Avian children who, like Elizabeth, had been discreetly taken out of existence. Massacring people like cattle in the streets; police, black, white, man, woman, all the same, as long as they were not winged. The Avians armored their wings with bulletproof material and took down planes. They kept bombing cities. Their base of operations was unplaceable. The military was confused. The president was enraged.

Just like that, the Human-Avian wars began.

Just like that, the Apocalypse began.

 **XXXXXX**

 **Day 336**

 **2206, Thursday 12/27, Year X427 of Nea Epochi**

 **Yuuri Katsuki**

 **The scientists won't stop trying to break into my infirmaries to try and steal _Beta-831756_ from his place in my hospital quarters. They have accused me of being Sympathizer. Disgusting. I have made a formal request for a security guard. The last one was not up to par, and did not appreciate the practices I put into place, saving lives so that they can be reused for the** _En Vivo_ **projects** **. I pray that the next guard will fit the criteria listed in my last journal entry. I also pray that Celestino knows that, as a soft-spoken and devoted man, I wish for a guard who is quite the same.-**

Yuri spluttered in his laughter. " _Soft spoken_ and _devoted_?" he choked out between laughs, "What does that even fucking _mean_?"

Yuuri winced, looking back down at his entry. "They're code words," he replied softly, "Meaning I want a Sympathizer as a guard." The Delta snorted in response, picking at the underside of his fingernails, but he looked contrite, maybe even had a tinge of pity. Which was probably Yuuri's mind just randomly coming up with things; he didn't deserve any pity, not after all that humans-Yuuri's own kind-had done to him and his.

The younger of the two was walking around, pacing almost. Ever since he'd been told he could get up, Yuri had barely sat down, only doing so when it was time to sleep, eat, or go to the bathroom.

He hadn't bathed for quite some time, and Yuuri didn't have the luxury of a bathroom that wasn't strictly for medical purposes. Besides, Avians were apparently all ingrained with a fear of submersion into water. That had been one of the first things tested, and one of the first things the scientist put to the side, because Yuuri Katsuki knew how to save a drowned man when he was out of the water and knew how to pull him up and out safely, but when the man was weighted down with waterlogged wings, then it became a problem. And showers counted in the category. So the groomers used hoses, with freezing water and dry soap, but it was better than nothing.

Yuri halted his pacing to eye the doctor. " _What_?" He snapped, and Yuuri quickly looked away.

But he was proud of the Avian boy's medical journey so far. To Yuuri's delight, the katsudon had worked its magic, and the young Avian looked much healthier, his ribs only jutting out slightly, now. An undressing of the wounds on his hand told Yuuri that Yuri's missing pinky finger's nubbin hadn't gotten infected. In fact, none of his wounds had, an astonishing feat. " _Talk_ , Katsudon, you're freaking me out with that half smile." Really, though, Yuri was faring so much better than any of the other Avians...it was probably just something to do with his age…

" _Katsudon_!"

Yuuri snapped out of his reverie. "Mhn!" he gasped, "Sorry, Yuri! I was...doing doctor stuff."

"Whatever," the young Delta snapped, "don't do it again."

And then Yuuri noted the shake to his tone and the way his eyes were no longer trained on him or the blade dancer, but flitted regularly between the door, the window, and the tray of instruments on the desk. Ah. Yuuri was making a _surgeon face_. And Yuri Plisetsky associated that face with pain.

Looking decidedly away, Yuuri stood. "I, um, I'm going to go meet with Celestino to interview the new guard. Um... _don't_ break anything else."

And just like that, he fled from the room, thoroughly scared away by the teen's sudden fear of him, and Yuri Plisetsky stared after him, wondering for a moment whether or not he still wanted to go through with his evil plans to annoy the fuck out of Katsudon. Sure, he deserved it for forgetting to tell him the date he could walk again, but the guy was so easily broken, and with the way he had scurried out of there upon noticing Yuri's discomfort was like someone had lit a fire in his asshole, and it was less funny than he would have imagined it being.

Yuri snorted. Of course he would go through with it. His grandpa hadn't raised him to be a quitter.

 **XXXXXX**

Mila Babicheva was a Sympathizer.

Yes. A surgeon in sect 2, the area known for its mortality rates being significantly higher than even that of area block 4 (which was only that way because it was the farthest area block from Katsuki's Infirmary), had joined the rebellion against the cruel treatment of aviankind. How utterly ironic.

But then Sara Crispino had turned Avian and Mila had had a change of heart. She had only just gotten her out of this damn facility, using a Sympathizer network that helped to "kill" the patient and smuggle her out from the Incinerator where all of the dead bodies went.

Michele had been ecstatic about her return. Despite the fact that he was human and she was Avian. Despite the fact that his sister was homosexual, the forbidden relations. Mila had seen to it that her tracking was erased from the DNA corps, and then she went on like nothing had happened.

Until that doctor came ambling on in like Bambi on a frozen pond.

Mila had him pegged as a one month wonder from the start. Once he saw the horrors, he and his shaky demeanor and frightened doe eyes would be gone, working in a human hospital where things were less... _graphic_. But the man had stayed longer, two, three, four, five months coming and going in a flash, money changing hands every week he continued to show his face, sprinting by the offices like a goddamn track star. He had more backbone than she'd thought, which was scary, because Mila had always considered herself an excellent judge of character.

Yes, Mila was a Sympathizer. But she didn't know about Yuuri Katsuki.

The man was a mystery, known to be quiet and introverted, but extremely rude and snooty when he spoke. Ha. He had a nice mask, but anyone who looked him full on in the face, like she had, would be able to tell that his holier-than-thou mask was that: a cover. He spoke with his mouth, not his heart, and it showed in his eyes. He wasn't necessarily a bad actor. Mila just knew better. Also, she wasn't invested in her projects so far that her attention was severely skewed, like everyone else in this damn facility.

Mila wanted to open him up like a flower in spring, to get behind that mask and make either an ally or mincemeat out of the infamous doctor. However, she hadn't been able to even near him, what with the scientists' sudden lack of interest in slicing other Avian's bodies apart that accompanied the arrival of the oversized beta.

She had heard tales of when Katsuki had gone into Grand Bay, calming the Avian like he was taming a naughty child and then sticking it with a needle. They made her _shudder_.

But Mila had also heard tales that Doctor Katsuki could not handle alcohol. And that was the start. Operation: _drunk!Katsuki_ was launched.

The operation crash 'n' burned so badly Mila didn't even _know_ anymore. She had intended to give him a cup of "water" which was actually a highly alcoholic beverage concocted by someone in area block 5, the chemical innovation, preparation, and administration blocks. She had a contact in 5 who had given her a small dosage of it. It was basically the equivalent of chugging down an entire champagne bottle.

Mila sniffed, smiling wearily. She'd tried so hard to stop him. Couldn't he see what he was doing, by reviving the Avians? He was playing right into the hands of the enemy!

So yes. She'd spiked his drink, if only to try to see whether or not he was on their side, and if he was, to get him to clumsily understand that he needed to allow the Avians to die. There was nothing they could do; Sara's case had been extreme, and it would not happen twice. The only exit was death. At the very least, he could make that quick.

And he ended up not drinking one drop, spilling it all over himself in the process of leaping up to answer yet another urgent call for his presence.

But Mila was determined. She only had one dosage of the beverage, which had been sloshed all over the front of Katsuki's scrubs, but she had other, natural, _feminine_ assets in spades. Plan B was less admirable, but it would probably be even more potent than sloshing the guy and interrogating him.

Mila was the _hunter_ , not the _hunted_. She went to bars. She knew this game inside and out.

And it infuriated her to no end that, aside from the occasional glance in order to see where he was placing his hand to push her out of the way of his work, Doctor Yuuri Katsuki was _unflinchingly_ oblivious to Mila practically baring her chest to him right under his nose.

Homosexuality was a horrible crime in the Nea Epochi, punishable by death, because a relationship that did not end in reproduction was unhealthy for the newly grown-and still growing-environment. Mila briefly considered it before pushing the thought away. Mila herself was lesbian (Sara being her lover) and she knew when she was confronted with a gay man. That doctor was a prime example of " _not_ gay". Which, in fact, would be played on for Option C. Like it hadn't been in B, she wanted to reprimand herself, but even the several gay men that she knew at least _appreciated_ breasts.

The doctor was a twenty-two year old man. Katsuki was a shy, bumbling fool, but he was cute. Mila thought for certain that he had gotten laid at least _once_ in his life.

So yes, she felt like a bitch when she started talking dirty to him, hoping to set a mood, and the guy turned bright red and literally _leapt_ away from her, moving completely around the operating table and babbling something about "reaching a new angle", which was obviously a plea crying "someone save me from this crazy lady who spiked my drink and shoved her boobs in my face and commented on how good I am at sex but I don't even _know_ her holy fuck _SOMEONE HELP_." She quickly retreated after that, questioning if her gaydar had failed her for the first time, and then feeling even more awful for considering it.

Well wasn't she just a bucket of shit today? She sneered at her thoughts.

Luckily, redemption found her in the form of one of Katsuki's patients defiling his office.

Okay, defiling was _kind of_ a strong word for what he was doing. But the kid was taking all of the writing utensils from the room, and Mila knew that she freaked out when there were no pens in sight. Knowing Katsuki, he would have a full blown heart attack.

But Katsuki had been avoiding her ever since she dropped the hint that she might want to get in his pants, which she _didn't_ , but using her sexuality to get what she wanted was easy in a building full of unintentionally celibate _psychopaths_ , and she had been blessed with a good body, so she would make use of it how she pleased.

Again, the possibility of the man being gay flashed through her mind.

Mila had gone into his infirmaries to enact plan C. As she sulked and contemplated the innocent doctor's sexuality, she walked past door after door, passing by a young man in aqua scrubs, a red streak marring his otherwise perfectly coiffed and spiky blonde hair, facial features indicating that he was from the eastern side of Metropolis Sigma, maybe Beijing-xīn or Neo Tokyo. Mila stifled a giggle as he gave her what was supposed to be a stern look, totally morphed by his boyish features to look like a grimace mixed with a fishy face. Adorably hilarious. Mila could see why the doctor kept that one around.

It was purely chance that she glanced into the room at the end of the hall, intrigued by its being the only door cracked open a smidge, and saw a cackling Avian boy shoving every vaguely pencil-like object he saw into a makeshift sack crafted by folding his shirt up his waist, exposing a scarred swath of skin. Mila could see a long line of stitches poking down his midsection.

After wrangling the writing utensils out of the squirming, cursing patient's hands, Mila smacked him on the head with a forcefulness that obviously surprised him and shot him a glare. "Don't steal what's not yours," she told him, and the young man rolled his eyes and spat back, "Don't think you can tell me what to fuckin' do, hag! Doctor Katsuki has me under his protection! You're not able to even _touch_ me!"

Mila narrowed her eyes at him. "The same doctor whose pens you're stealing?"

The boy flinched, his wings unfolding from his shoulder blades instinctively as he went on the defensive. "It's just a prank," he finally shot back, "It wasn't like I was going to _keep_ them or some shit."

" _Obviously_ ," Mila said drily. He glared at her in response, his wings ruffling softly behind him in testimony to his irritationlxm with her.

There was a slamming of footsteps on the ground outside, and then the doctor himself skidded by them, grabbing the door frame to swing himself around and into the office, pushing past the two occupants without so much as a glance in their direction, vaulting over the desk, slamming open the cabinets, grabbing a certain medical kit, and then going back, pausing breathlessly by the door to briefly bow to the two people, offer a quick apology for his rudeness and his brief counsel, and then sprinted away. The Avian boy scoffed. Mila looked at him, half interested. "He has different kits for different operations. That one was his extra suture kit. You wanna bet on what your fucking psycho colleagues did _this_ time?"

Mila's head whipped towards him. "Not _all_ of them are that bad...Dr. Trillizos Sr. is okay."

The kid snorted and held up his left hand-and Mila flinched at the lack of a pinky finger. "Dr. Trillizos was the one who did _this_ to me. He's fucking _fantastic_ , you know?"

"I'm a _Sympathizer_ , you idiot. And I'm not talking about Trilly Jr., I'm talking about his _dad_."

"Ah, torturing Avians is a damn _family business_ , now. _Good to know_ that there's no fucking hope _whatsoever_ in this bullshit Nea Epochi."

"Shut up," Mila hissed, "I'm trying to help you! I don't know whether or not Dr. Katsuki has your best intentions at heart, and I just want to guarantee your safety before-"

"Yeah, and what's in it for _you_?" the boy asked, raising an eyebrow at her as he hissed out a mocking, " _Moral justice_? Aw, _fuck_ off, hag. Katsudon promised me that he'd buy me time to get out, and he's too much of a pussy to back out. Besides, he at least does _something_ to help. I remember you in the labs. You watched them take out my insides and you didn't do _shit_! I don't _want_ your goddamn help!"

And then Mila's temper snapped. Grabbing his arm, she snapped, "They're making drugs down in area block 5, chemical cocktails that they intend to use on everything from Lambda to Delta! No test subjects have survived yet, but every time they die a little bit slower, and soon they're going to have it perfected." Her eyes found the Avian boy's, the shining blue irises of _Delta-009863_ , reflecting terror and disbelief and resentment. " _Let go of me_ ," he hissed, and she complied hesitantly.

"They're trying to make artificial Alphas," she whispered to him, ignoring the strangled noise that escaped his throat, "and as soon as the drug is perfected every Delta in this shithole is being carted to area block 5."

The boy was frozen in place, terror written across his features. Mila grimaced. "Katsuki can't protect you forever," she continued, "but _I_ can. Let me help you to get out of here."

He was going to take her offer. No one ever denied unlimited protection.

And then he unfroze. Terror was replaced with resignation. And Mila thought she had him.

"Yknow, I think I'll stay with the katsudon, thanks," the Avian boy said slowly, his eyes flickering between her and the door.

Mila held on for a little longer, just staring. _Surely_ he didn't mean it. _Surely_ he was joking.

His eyes didn't betray anything. His resolution was _flawless_.

Mila backed off, turning away. "If you ever need my help," she said quietly, "Tell Katsuki to send a message about peaches and zucchini to lab 2E."

And then she strode out of the room.

"Fucking _hag_ ," she heard the boy swear behind her.

 **XXXXXX**

21:35.

Yuuri had finally gotten back to his labs. He was off-call for the next twenty-four hours; something about a mandatory weekly break time Celestino had forced into his schedule. He had work to do on the no-longer sleeping Alpha. He hoped Minami had warded off any intruding doctors well enough.

Brushing past the young assistant, Yuuri tentatively walked into the medical room. The Avian man was awake in his bed, bright blue eyes fixated on the opposite wall, but when Yuuri walked in they latched onto him and stayed. The doctor shifted in embarrassment under his scrutiny. An awkward pause stretched out between them. Finally, Yuuri tried to breach it. "Hi..?" He said softly, wincing as his voice cracked.

"You're not an angel," the Avian man said decidedly, "that's the second time you've drugged me and knocked me out. _Plus_ you didn't put my fingers back."

Yuuri winced again. "I'm sorry."

But the Avian man was on a roll now. "I tried _so hard_ to hold on! Why save me if in a day or a week or a month they'll just cut me up! They know that I'm an Alpha, they just use the term oversized Beta as a formality! This is _hell_! Jesus, I don't even know what your name is and _God forbid_ I ever learn it! You told me Doctor Yuuri Katsuki would help me! Where is he? I don't want you, I want _him_!"

Yuuri cowered under the Avian's words. He wasn't good enough, he knew that, but...to hear it from this angelic creature, this regal beauty…

The door behind them creaked open, and Yuuri straightened like a marionette, turning to face Minami. "Get a strong numbing solution, heavy painkillers, and a new set of sutures. Fishhook needle, as well. I don't think he's torn anything, but it doesn't hurt to check. I'll check his eye's 1-to-10 and check his eyes, ears, throat, etcetera while you get that. If I'm not done by then, check the bandages on the wing muscles by the back joint. They targeted that area almost as badly as the neck and Achilles. I want him out of bed quickly so that the leg muscles don't deteriorate too badly. He has about six more weeks in the boot. Can you tell one of the others to put it in my schedule to work on PT every Thursday? Thanks."

Minami nodded silently and walked over to the cabinets. Yuuri approached the Avian, who looked up at him, anger reflected in his eyes. "Don't _touch_ me," he spat as Yuuri reached out to him.

But the doctor mask was on, and unlike the real Yuuri Katsuki, who cowered at his tone and flinched away, begging for forgiveness, Doctor Katsuki was used to and unimpressed by such remarks. The only thing the doctor did was shoot the Avian a dry stare before he touched feather-light fingers to the Avian's throat through the bars of the brace. "The skin seems to have taken to the area well." He would rather not change that, so he moved up to the Avian's black eye. "Rate your pain from one to ten," he told the Avian, pressing lightly on the edge of the dark area.

The man stared at him, anger and resentment gone and replaced with curiosity and disgust. Yuuri Katsuki shrieked and buried himself deeper under the doctor mask. "A two. What are you _doing_?" the Avian asked. Doctor Katsuki raised an eyebrow. "Basic checkup. There's no concussion, probably, judging by the width of your pupils and your memory span, but Minami brained you pretty hard. With the lamp, I assume, judging by the size and darkness of the bruise, and the blood on the base. I'll avoid the cut. Here?"

The Avian flinched, but Yuuri kept his fingers there. "Six," he decided, "And it's not _my_ fault that when I woke up I was freaked out."

Minami snorted and muttered, "I told you 'good morning' because you'd just gotten up and you attacked me. Doctor Katsuki was the only reason you're not cuffed down, you _jerk_."

The Avian glared, but didn't move. "I want my dog," he told Yuuri. "She's a _beautiful_ brown poodle."

"Here?"

"Ouch! _Fuck_!"

"I assume that that means a ten, hm?"

" _Nine_. It smarts, but it isn't a ten. Ten is my throat." His eyes slid to Minami. "Hurts _almost_ as bad as when I molted."

Minami snorted again. Yuuri shot him a warning glance and he clammed up.

There was a sudden crashing noise from two rooms over. "Ah, _damn_ ," Minami swore, "I think Plisetsky is acting up again. You know that you're like the _only_ one he listens to? And he _still_ calls you mean names! _Mah_ …pardon my hasty extrusion," he said, depositing the asked for items on the small table beside Doctor Katsuki, bowing to the room, and departing to go and reign in the small blonde firecracker.

Yuuri Katsuki surfaced for a moment at the thought. The boy was a knife right to the eardrums, ready to deliver insults like a rapidfire machine gun, but Yuuri Katsuki could come out around him, and so Yuuri enjoyed his company.

"So," Doctor Katsuki said, sliding back into place, "your dog. What's her name?"

"Your face softened," the Alpha told him, ignoring his statement, "Who is Plisetsky?"

Doctor Katsuki glared at the Avian. "You'll meet him in time. Be ready for that. He'll insult everything from your Achilles boot to your receding hairline."

"Hey!" the Avian looked genuinely insulted as he reached up with his good arm to shield his forehead with his hand. "It's _not_ that bad! Don't mock it!"

Yuuri Katsuki surfaced again. "I'm sorry," he said, stooping slightly in apology as Doctor Katsuki wrangled for control. He touched his fingers lightly to the bruise, not pressing as he had been but laying his cool fingers on the spot. As expected, the Avian groaned in pleasure. "That feels _good_!" he said, "It helps with the throbbing."

Minami strode back in. "He wants you, doctor. Said something about katsudon?"

Yuuri huffed. "Darn it. I'm still working with Nikiforov though."

"You could bring him in here-"

" _Absolutely_ not." He couldn't have Yuuri Katsuki surfacing any more around this one, it was too dangerous, especially because Yuuri Katsuki was-

" _OI_! KATSUDON!" Yuri poked his head in through the door. "Make me some! I'm _hungry_ , dammit-" his eyes alit on Nikiforov, and they squinted. "So you're the one that's taking up all of Katsuki's time. I see why. You look like shit. Maybe it's the hairline."

"Leave my hairline _alone_!" the Alpha whimpered, glaring at Yuri.

The Delta laughed. "I gotta talk to you, though, Katsudon. Super serious. Don't let _Red Riding Hood_ in on it."

"What is it with you and insulting my red streak!?" Minami blurted as Yuri cackled, reaching up and placing his hands around it as if he could protect his hair from the angry blonde's words. Yuuri put a hand on his shoulder to calm him and said to Yuri, "I can't talk right now, I have to check up on his condition," he nodded at Nikiforov, "So can it wait for a few minutes?"

Yuri snorted. "Oh, yeah, I forgot, the ever-hardworking Doctor Katsuki _actually_ has work to do _inside_ his infirmaries-"

" _Oh my God_!" Nikiforov shouted over them all, effectively silencing Yuri with a grunt of irritation. Yuuri made a guttural shushing noise as Minami hissed, "The other patients!"

But Nikiforov ignored them and their discomfort, complaining, " _Who_ is Doctor Katsuki?"

Minami laughed, and Yuuri shushed him. Then he turned to the Avian, opening his mouth to tell him-

"Are you _stupid_?" Yuri asked, snickering, and he raised a finger to point at Yuuri. "That's him, you dumbass."

Yuuri winced. Minami looked between the three of them in confusion. Yuri was scowling heavily.

And Nikiforov?

He uttered a quiet, "oh," and fell backward into his pillows in a dead faint.

 **XXXXXX**

 **Fin.**

 **Sorry about the wait.**

 **Also, Mila is fun and newly developed, and Viktor is so confused. God, I hope I got her character right. I don't want to have to go back and fix it. Ugh. Another also:** **I felt like Yuuri was getting a bit too independent and strong-willed, so I gave him character splits. I feel like that would be a plausible course of self-preservation in a place like the Facility for a cute lil' marshmallow like him.**

 **Love you guys for putting up with crappy updates. Oml I'm so awful at that.**

 **Follow, fave, and reviews are welcome!**

 **But no flames. Douse those flames.**

 **~ _RegalOneByTheStream_**


	4. Chapter Four

**_By RegalOneByTheStream_**

 **Thanks for follows, faves, and reviews, I am currently dead inside but they do bring me joy!**

 **Hello, sorry for the wait. Back to school! YAAAHAHAHAN** ** _NOOOOOOOOOOOO_** **!**

 **I actually have nothing else to say. Wow. I am surprise.**

 **Oh. Don't think I've put in a disclaimer yet. OBVIOUSLY I hold no claims over Yuri! On Ice or the basics of this prompt. However certain details in the AU are mine. So it's sorta original. Kinda.** ** _Not really_** **.**

 **Well then. Enjoy!**

 **XXXXXX**

 **They say pain is an illusion, this is just a bruise, and you are just confused, but I am only human.**

 **And I could use a hand sometimes.**

 **I am only human.**

 **Human; Krewella**

 **XXXXXX**

Minami Kenjiro had once been an Avian.

On November the tenth, Celestino had used his groomer and area block 3 connections to help the boy escape, wiping the DNA Records of him and replacing them with human fakes, having one of the disloyal groomers smuggle him away and send the dirty, broken boy to Yuuri's doorstep.

What else could Yuuri do but fix him?

Kenjiro had been relatively unscathed when it came to his organs, but they had tapped him of spinal fluid, a painful process when one doesn't give a damn about the pain levels of the patient, and then had decided to 'study' his wings. Once, he had the wings of a red hawk; beautiful, wide wings. The wings of a well-bred Tau Avian. In the lab, he had been completely defeathered, and the meat of his wings looked like a mauled chew toy with bones of gritty sawdust when he finally came to be treated by Yuuri.

Celestino couldn't have wiped the boy's records permanently: the sudden decline in the numbers would not be noticed soon with how many deaths occurred daily, but eventually they would notice the gap, and when that time came the boy's name would be broadcast across Metropolis Sigma, his mention made into propaganda. Hunters would be on him like flies on shit, and once he was caught he would be an animal offering for the greater good of Metropolis Sigma, a political message to Avians and Sympathizers alike.

And so his information was altered, Yuuri was forced to use a bone saw to cut off what was left of the boy's wings, and Kenjiro was no longer a lowly Avian called Tau-646264 but a normal, _definitely_ human boy renamed Minami Kenjiro from the Hasetsu district of Metropolis Sigma.

School records were easy to fake, as was a strengthening factor: according to the new false records, Minami Kenjiro had been orphaned at a young age and was raised and funded by the Katsuki family, who had paid for him to take classes up to the twelfth grade before he had become enamored with the Facility. However he was not able to attend Sigma College due to Hasetsu's financial crisis, and so had skipped admission there in favor of taking a job with his foster brother in the Facility. All lies. All based around the protection of this sole Avian.

The Avian-Human cosmetic surgeries had been outlawed all over the country. And yet Yuuri Katsuki used a government facility to do it, the evidence of the action lost behind a carefully looped extra film. It had taken every _inch_ of confidence and loads of soothing from Celestino to calm him enough to pull it off. Yet he had successfully performed, finding his medium and shifting his mind to another idea and before he knew it, the mask of Doctor Katsuki had been created.

Doctor Katsuki had become instrumental in the mental battles to come, and ultimately, was the only reason that Yuuri Katsuki had not been lost to insanity.

 **XXXXXX**

Yuuri was going to ignore his daily log today. He had also ignored it for the remaining week after the day that the Alpha woke and resubmerged into slumber, and today, the first day of the weekend, would be the same. He was too ashamed to do anything but meekly work, Doctor Katsuki taking hold when it mattered and the Asshole hiding in what he wouldn't ever classify as shame or fear but was really just something in between, Katsuki Yuuri not quite feeling confident enough to put him in place despite the mask not really needing any courage in the first place. At least not once he'd gotten the hang of switching it on and off at will. The Alpha Avian's words resonated in his skull, only this time what had gone unsaid, the between-the-lines, was perfectly clear.

 _You're not good enough_.

 _You should have let me die when I had the chance_.

 _You're just a human, you couldn't understand even if you tried to_.

I don't want you!

He had taken advantage of Celestino, using the man's ever-present worry about Yuuri's health to call off external work today, opting to use the time to clean up the inside of his infirmary, to make room for the new shipments of medicines, and to set out prescriptions. The Alpha was on blood thinners and heavy painkillers, and Yuuri felt bad lowering the dosage. He'd have to ease the Avian off the gas pedal on the drugs, lest he become addicted, but he was already on a thin rope with the Avian and it seemed that pain made the Alpha cranky.

No matter which mask he wore, Yuuri didn't deal well with cranky people. Yuuri Katsuki clammed up. Doctor Katsuki became sarcastic. Lying asshole Yuuri got mad and vengeant.

No, Yuuri did _not_ want to make him cranky.

Wincing, Yuuri turned back to the documents on his desk. Huh. Cleanup, he had said. Receiving shipment, he had said. More like glorified paperwork, signing bills paid with money doused in Avian blood, checking the Grand Bay lists for any high-levels that might come in soon, scheduling out his next Grand Bay visit to tend to the low-levels caged in there. Preferably on the tenth of January. It would be good then, especially because the groomers seemed to be the only people who liked him around here, save Celestino, his underlings, and what meager Sympathizer surgeons and scientists there were in the Avian Research and Detention Facility. And Minami. Minami was a godsend.

Kenjirou would never forget what Katsuki Yuuri and Doctor Katsuki did for him. He may look like a human boy, but he still had his Avian instincts, and with those instincts came unending loyalty. Minami Kenjirou would admire and serve with Yuuri Katsuki until the day he died.

And Yuuri Katsuki was aware of that fact. But he really, _really_ wished he wasn't. It put the weight of the world on his shoulders, something which often galvanized him to do something stupid.

Yuuri gnawed on the end of his pen and glanced up at the clock on the wall. 13:38. Sighing, he picked up his papers and pen, grabbed a wide book from the shelves (some tome about open heart surgery), and trekked down the hall to the room of the fake Beta-834756, where he would continue.

The silent presence of the Alpha Avian, who hadn't spoken more than five words to him since he had woken up from his swoon during the revelation of his identity four days ago, was more or less calming. Yuuri could focus better around him...probably due to the idea that Avian pheromones could very basically connect with human emotion, a hypothesis that Yuuri had quietly founded in the first few months of his work in the Facility to explain why all of the doctors were so hyped all the time. That was only days before he became swamped in this new cleanup duty and his experimental studies became scarce.

Plopping into the cushioned guest's chair adjacent to the plush medical bed that housed the alpha, Yuuri pulled his legs up onto the chair, rested the book on his ankles and the papers on the book, and began to write, acutely aware of the Avian's eyes following his every move.

Yuri Plisetsky always lost interest with him when he did paperwork in the young Avian's room, and would distract him from his task by whining or pushing against him until he couldn't take it or impersonating what he imagined the President to sound like until Yuuri burst out laughing and Yuri would smirk like the cat that had caught the canary, thrilled that he had completed his short study of manipulating the scientists, otherwise known as "perfecting the talent of sucking off those bastards", and could now spend time with Katsuki like this: not paranoid, just relaxed. But this older, more tempered Avian didn't seem to have the same short attention span. That, or he still felt threatened by the presence of a certified doctor who had sedated him twice in the span of a fortnight.

Three, he realized, three times he had sedated the Avian. Once as a doctor in Grand Bay, once as the asshole in the labs, and once as Yuuri Katsuki under the mistaken guise of an angel. Why the being had forgotten one of the three, he didn't understand, but the man had assumed he was an angel at least two-thirds of that time, seeing that when he was in Grand he hadn't also been half delirious with either pain or drugs. Yuuri hoped that it was one of those times.

But Yuuri was the farthest thing from an angel. He was worse than a killer.

Yuuri saved creatures that were being tortured, forced them off of the doorstep of permanent escape from this miserable hole of a facility and refreshed them, only for the purpose of restocking the surgeon's supply of Avians with renewed meat.

He knew that his kindness towards Yuri would soften the Delta. And once he was thrown back into the depths of the facility, the young man would either harden so far that if he ever softened again, he would shatter, or he would be broken as soon as he was wheeled through the doors.

And he understood all too well that his actions of mercy were more deadly than the scalpels, the syringes, the saws and the tines and all of the chemicals mixed up down in area block 5.

But Yuuri couldn't halt his conscience. He couldn't curb his guilt when someone died that he could so _easily_ have saved. Celestino had tried fruitlessly to give him a companion to share his torture with, to try and center his focus and soothe his inner turmoil with the gift of Minami. But although the boy was appreciated greatly, and Yuuri wouldn't have his fate turn out any other way, nothing ever helped to calm this hurricane of emotion but saving the Avians that the intercom buzzed in as salvation necessities-or alcohol.

Sighing, the young doctor lowered his legs from their crossed position, straightening up and clicking his pen into its standby position. And then he leaned his head back, looked into the Alpha Avian's eyes, and wracking his brains to come up with an icebreaker, trying desperately to think of what to say to him.

And then he lost his nerve, just as Minami barged in.

 **XXXXXX**

Viktor didn't quite know why this doctor insisted on staying with him so frequently, but he was pissed off because he wasn't minding it as much as he would have liked.

As a lawyer, and one of the most famous, controversial politicians in the entire country-city- _thing_ of Metropolis Sigma, Viktor had seen his fair share of gore, of deceit, of carnage wrought by Avian hand and devastation caused by humans. Pyrrhic victories flashed through his news station like fires, and with a single smile and a flip of his bangs viewer ratings escalated exponentially. It was animalistic, and so dreadfully dull, that Viktor didn't quite know what to do anymore.

Throughout it all, he had always maintained a thick layer of professionalism to hide the real Viktor Nikiforov: the horrified, _disgusted_ man who looked at the world and wondered why God hadn't struck them all down yet. Coming to this Facility only to be poked and prodded had made it worse: he'd seen firsthand the evilness of mankind. And he was _determined_ to hate them, the brutish _men_ who took the lives of his kinsmen like they were _nothing_.

But this doctor, this infuriatingly cute, timid man who absolutely _refused_ to acknowledge that Viktor didn't want company, seemed like the direct opposite of that. And it irritated him to know that his hackles weren't raised like they were with everyone else. _Like they should be with him_.

Viktor was gayer than a rainbow. He enjoyed the feeling of a man's body on his, a man's lips pressing against his, a man's large hands tousling his silvery hair and gripping the nape of his neck to pull him closer. And he enjoyed hunting his prey, watching their eyes darken with lust as he moved his hips or widen with shock as he did something surprising. And Viktor often did surprising things; enjoyed doing them as much as he enjoyed the pleasurable consequences of the actions.

But he didn't court straights. Didn't even do _bone-and-runs_ on them like some of the other men in his line of work did.

No, Viktor was a fan of companionship for a long time. It was why he had Makka. It was also why, save for all of his fruitless one night stands he'd committed when he wore a younger man's clothes, Viktor's only partner was his hand and the net. Because he always gave chase, and he couldn't even get it up if the man was straight.

And the doc was the very definition of straight. Case _closed_.

" _Umph_!" Viktor heard the doctor exclaim softly as his pen blotted, and he ignored the little flutters in his chest that made him want to cuddle and strangle the man at the same time.

He couldn't even look at the doctor...not without jeopardizing everything he stood for concerning his sexual habits. Viktor opted to glare out the window, gazing at the hovercars that bolted past on their magnetized tracks between and over buildings and ignoring the throb in his lower regions that insultingly told him that he was going to be busy tonight.

Stupid, stupid, _stupid_. Why in the world-

Ah. Their eyes met, and Viktor could _feel_ that spark running between them. He'd had lovers before, back when he was still fresh, young Vityenka whose control over his extra appendages was flawless despite being in the throes of pleasure. But as he'd grown older, and eyes had gotten more suspicious, and they came out with the strange x-ray machine that somehow could make out retracted wings-which was how he'd gotten caught in the _first_ place-he hadn't lost opportunities, but rather gained a new level of maturity: he wanted to know what it was to feel _alive_ again, to not have to hide his wings and keep secrets from everyone the second he met them

The door slammed open, and the both Viktor and the doctor jumped. But while Viktor remained quiet, his only other reaction his mouth forming into a silent 'o' of shock, the doctor quietly squeaked in surprise and _oh_ _lord_ _wasn't that just the most delectable sound ever_.

The red-streak assistant jogged in, said something in a strange language Viktor could vaguely discern as a Polynesian, eastern Metropolitan tongue, and Doctor Katsuki replied in turn, his tone gaining a sudden urgency. Then both men bolted out, just as crashes and bangs resounded from two doors down- _ah, the blonde boy_. He could often hear the shouts from two doors down quite well, and this time was no different: the doctor seemed to hate to partake, but the blonde and red-streak freely hurled heated insults at each other, usually something or another to do with the other's perpetual scowl (red-streak's choice of weaponry) or coloration (what blonde boy's vast arsenal mostly consisted of).

Viktor gingerly placed a hand on his hairline and clucked his tongue. "They aren't talking about you, milaya," he whispered to it. The shouting calmed, and a minute later red-streak walked in again alone, blood drawn to his face to match his streak and looking ready to hit something.

Viktor smiled at him toothily, a smile he didn't quite feel. It had too much teeth, too wide of lips, and his eyes were devoid of emotion. But the boy seemed to relax with the notion. He narrowed his eyes at Viktor instead and said, "Hey...before, a few days ago, when you found out that Yuuri was Yuuri and freaked out...what were you thinking, referencing molts?"

Blinking away shock, Viktor shrugged. "You're just a little human kid. You couldn't possibly understand these horrible things in this Facility, much less the agony of the first molt. The yearly heats are understandably bearable, but the first molt?" he clucked his tongue, "Horrible."

Red-streak relaxed further, even as his face scrunched in a scowl. "Is that why you hate Yuuri? Because he doesn't understand?"

Viktor huffed. "He's faking that he understands! He has those masks that he puts on, I've seen them, the doctoral one and the creepy confident one. And then there's this other one, of this kind, caring, timid little guy. And I don't know what to think of it. I don't know how to deal with him!"

Red-streak was quiet for a second. And when he finally spoke again, his voice was quiet. Not angry, not amused, just soft and patient, too wise for his assumed age of maybe fifteen. "We all do what we have to to survive in this place," he told Viktor, "And Doctor Katsuki has a weak persona. That's just the way he is; he's very sensitive to people's emotions, always bending over backwards to make everyone happy despite the repercussions. And in a place like this, bending over like that gets your spine twisted in a knot, or worse, snapped."

Viktor winced, but he quickly schooled his expression and turned away.

"And for the record," red-streak continued, his voice soft and hard, "My name was once Tau-646264, surname Minami. But now, I am one of the Wingless, and my name is Minami Kenjirou. And you would do well to remember that I, as a past Avian, vouch for Yuuri Katsuki, as would no doubt any Avian you talk to in this hole of an organization."

Viktor's head snapped toward the boy, but he was gone, slipped away through the door.

And he was left alone to brood.

 **XXXXXX**

Yuri told him all about Mila's proposal.

And to Yuuri, it sounded a lot like her telling him indirectly that the Underground Railroad was still underway.

God, Yuuri hoped the Underground Railroad was still underway.

But Yuri hadn't taken her proposal, even to save his own skin. And Yuuri couldn't believe his reasoning.

"She's a fucking psychopath," he had moaned to him, "talking about 'protecting me forever' or some shit! But you know, Katsudon, why I didn't just take her shitty-ass proposal?" He pointed at Yuuri and jabbed a finger into his side, just below his ribcage; Yuuri buckled over, yelping and scooting away in an attempt to protect the tender area. "Because of your weird teaching thingies. You taught me how to kinda look at people and gauge the length of their crazy streak, and that baba didn't give two shits, she was a fucking crazy lady."

Yuri shifted where he stood, halting in his pacing and glaring forcefully at the ground as if it had done him a great disservice. "So, uh, thanks, I guess."

Yuuri didn't quite understand why the Avian boy was so obstinate, but he was willing to force him to take Mila's offer up. But he wouldn't. Because that grateful sentence, that one, uncharacteristic word of thanks, mostly convinced him to believe the young Avian over his fellow surgeon, Sympathizer, and over his own instinct. Because Yuri had been the one to take the lessons. He had been the only one of them to truly meet and speak with the woman.

But mostly is not completely, especially in the mind of a timid man. And so Yuuri smiled, even as his mind spun with worry and his brow creased to show it. "We have a little more than two weeks left, Yuri. I don't know how to make that time any longer…I don't know how to save you. Maybe you should have taken Mila's hand; she almost definitely had a plan, so if-"

Plisetsky snorted. "She had a batshit crazy streak," he repeated, "the answer is always going to be no." His eyes shifted, narrowing in on Yuuri. "And what's this 'I don't know what to do' bullshit, Katsudon? Aren't you just as much of a scientist as they are? Say you're keeping me for some sort of experimentation thing or whatever."

Yuuri paled. "They won't like that," he murmured, wringing his hands and looking away, "They all just want me to be the cleanup; who knows what they'll pull if I start acting like I'm smart enough to conduct an experiment-"

"Katsudon, you dumbshit!"

Yuri was roaring.

"I wasn't healed by a quivering pussy! I refuse to accept that!" He hastily yanked up his medical shirt and used his fingernails to rip at his stitches. Yuuri cried out, grasping his hands and trying to stop him, but the damage was done, and blood was beginning to seep out of the wound. "Idiot! Grow a dick, write something shittily arrogant and that goddamn online diary of yours, and start experimenting on me, or I'm gonna find out which pens in your office are the sharpest!"

The doctor squeaked. Yuri stared him down.

And then Yuuri Katsuki took a few deep breaths, calmed himself, and looked at Yuri with a new determination.

"I'll do it. But you're not going to be the only one."

 **XXXXXX**

 _Day 340_

 _0025, Monday 12/31, Year X427 of Nea Epochi_

 _Doctor Yuuri Katsuki, D.S.M.D._

 _I have decided to grow a backbone_.-

"Do I have to say that?" Yuuri asked weakly. Yuri scowled. "Yes."

\- _I despise failure, and all I have done in the past ten months is watch others' failures and fix them. I am done just fixing them. In the meantime I will conduct my own experiments, find my own results, and absolutely no one can stop me_.-

"Except any member of the council _whatsoever_ ," Yuuri mumbled, squeaking and clamming up as Yuri shot him a threatening glare and snapped, "Keep going, Katsudon."

\- _The experiments will be purely psychological. A friend of mine is a psychologist and will be joining me, name Nishigori Yuuko. I will be keeping Delta-009873 under custody for the purpose of these experiments, as well as Tau-371533 and_ \- Yuuri gulped and Yuri's eyes narrowed into slits. - _the large Beta-831756. I shall also recall Kappa-633713 to the infirmaries from area block 3. My experiments will span the alphabet system for maximum efficiency_.-

Yuuri glanced at Yuri, who was nodding.

\- _I will request for several days of the week off of doctoral duty, days under which another team of doctors will have to do the work I am shedding in order to enact these experiments. Extra anesthesia, numbing ointment, biofoam, and light painkillers, something along the lines of ibuprofen, would be appreciated but is not necessary_.-

- _An audience with Vice-President Celestino is most definitely in order for my intentions to go through_.-

- _Good day, and Happy New Year,_

 _Yuuri Katsuki_ -

Yuuri missed writing his name the right way, the East Metropolitan way, surname first and given name last.

Yuri Plisetsky looked satisfied. " _That's_ better, Katsudon. Now fix me up," he yanked his shirt up, and Yuuri squeaked. The flesh around his ripped stitches was inflamed, the blood dripping down his midsection, and he'd torn at least ten of the thirty-seven stitches. Doctor Katsuki took over wordlessly, stealing Yuuri Katsuki's hands and grabbing numbing cream and a suture kit.

"Ugh, that feels so fucking _weird_ ," Yuri grunted, and Doctor Katsuki shushed him. It was hard enough sewing up his skin when he was breathing; talking shook the area, and the only reason Yuri wasn't howling from the movement was the numbness. And then Doctor Katsuki would have to use a syringe, which would not be good because Yuri got panicky and violent with needles.

And as soon as the stitching finished and Yuuri went on to apply bandaging, Yuri finally lapsed into their regular " _I'll talk to you like I'm throwing the words at you because I don't quite care if you're listening as long as you act like you are_ ," and Yuuri Katsuki resurfaced inwardly as Doctor Katsuki handled the outside, Yuuri wondered: why was Yuri Plisetsky different? Was it his attitude, so bolstered and sure of itself, that made Yuuri want to save him-made Yuuri feel like sending him back was out of the question? Or maybe was it his age; sixteen was most definitely too young to be in a place like this. Was it these times, where Yuri hurled words at him and he filed them away in his subconscious as something to ask about later? Was it the times when he was quiet, where he stared at the image of the bladedancer as if he couldn't imagine anywhere else being worthy of his presence?

"And that silver headed fucker just sat there and stared like I was speaking in _tongues_ -Katsudon? What's with the creepy look?"

No, it was certainly those eyes.

Crystal blue, tough, eager to take your bullshit and fling it back in your face. No nonsense, practical, and able to twinge with just the slightest bit of humor under the right circumstances.

Yuri Plisetsky had a fighter's eyes. The kind of eyes that rebels desired, that veterans wore proudly, that both scared Yuuri Katsuki to pieces and intrigued him.

 **XXXXXX**

 **Who else skipped the VMAs to watch the s7 finale of Game of Thrones like last night? 'Cause FUCK YEAH I did. No spoilers, folks, cause I don't want to be eaten alive, but I AM DEAD. YEET THAT WAS GREAT!**

 **Where Viktor is talking to his hair, he's calling his hair by a pet name. It's like "my sweet" I think. I don't know. I don't take Russian and my native language is English so I kind of just winged it with a website. Please correct me if I messed up, any Russian readers.**

 **Follow/faves are awesome! Drop a review on your way out if you so desire! Lots to come in future chapters but the opposite of lots of time to write it URRRGGHH soccer runs my liiife.**

 ** _Love from an always-absent author,_**

 ** _~RegalOneByTheStream_**


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